Bullets With Butterfly Wings
by Tainted Visions
Summary: PostOOTP. After being returned from Voldemort's clutches, beaten and raped, Harry's life takes a turn for the worst. Snape mentors Harry fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Bullet With Butterfly Wings**

Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter. At all.

Rating: M. Rating may go up later for torture, violence, language, and rape.

Summary: Post-OOTP. After being returned from Voldemort's clutches, beaten and raped, Harry's life takes a turn for the worst.

**I.**

**"Haunted"**

The sound of water dripping was the only thing he heard upon awakening; Assuming that he was awake, after all - perhaps he was dead, waking up in a world where there would no longer be pain, where he would no longer feel agony; the afterlife had to be better than what he had known, what pain the living world had offered, wouldn't it? Were they true, the promises the afterlife had assured? Did everything just go away, all the pain, all the agony? Would he feel better than he had in the living world?

He let this thought rouse him; Assuming he was dead after all, upon opening his eyes, he would feel nothing. Or at least that's what he believed, or rather hoped - there were no garauntees in the afterlife, after all. Slowly, afraid the vision might be lost if he did it too fast, Harry opened his eyes.

The first thing he discovered was that he was in a dark room. Definately not the afterlife. The afterlife was bright, and painless, and happy, and this place seemed to be anything but. As though thinking it were a sudden alarm, Harry winced as pain shot through his forehead; his scar was on fire, the inside feeling as if it had been cut by a flame torch, or a dagger with burning flame. He didn't ponder on that idea too much - it usually intensified the pain.

Clenching his jaw in an attempt to ignore it, Harry slowly lifted his head, becoming aware of the fact that his face was wet; the water he had heard moments previously before must have been coming from just above his head. Looking up, he saw a small faucet, silver and rusty, as though it were hundreds of years old..

Or maybe it was days, weeks? How long had _he_ been here? He tried to recall what he had been doing before he wound up here, but he couldn't remember; obviously, someone had placed a memory charm on him, or maybe it was the fact that he was so tired, and his head hurt so badly, that

prohibited him from remembering, that interrupted his thoughts? Whatever it was, he didn't like it; he felt insecure, vulnerable, not being able to remember what had happened and how he had gotten here. He had the gut feeling that it wasn't just a coincidence, and it had something to do with _him_, but he just couldn't figure out what.

But he was saved the pain of thinking, of straining to remember, when the sound of footsteps made him lift his head further, trying to catch sight of who it was entering the room - he had heard the door open, he swore he did - and let out a stifled gasp.

Standing in the doorway, looking suddenly menacing and triumphant, stood Lord Voldemort. He wore a smirk, or atleast what he tried to make it - it looked more like a curved smile to Harry. His red eyes were slits, yet there was something in them that expressed repressed smugness, as if expressing in in front of the enemy were dishonoring; The facade continued when he caught sight of Harry.

"Ah, you're awake."

Harry didn't answer. Why should he? It wasn't like the asswhole was worth much-needed breath, breath that would only be wasted; He wouldn't speak unless he had to, even if Voldemort forced him. He wouldn't show him that he gave the slightest concern about what he said, because in truth, Harry really didn't give a damn.

Voldemort moved towards him, red eyes glinting in the darkness, "So tell me, Potter, how do you feel?"

Harry was so shocked by the question that he almost opened his mouth to answer. Since when did _Voldemort,_ of all people, care how _he _was? This, coming from the man who had tried not to kill him once, but three times so far, and _murdered_ his parents without a second thought? But Harry kept his mouth well closed, and instead turned repressed words into the hardest glare he could muster and sent it straight at Voldemort.

This seemed to piss Voldemort off, for he jumped forward and seized Harry around the chin, and squeezed. Harry felt his jaws go numb.

"I _said_," He growled, squeezing all the harder, "_How do you feel?_ And you _better_ answer me this time, you impertient little brat!"

"Why do you wanna know?" Harry found himself seething through clenched teeth, and the words came out slightly muffled due to Voldemort's clamp-like grip, "Why the hell should I answer you?"

Voldemort raised a snake-like hand and slapped Harry square across the face. "Because you're at my mercy. You have no one here to help you, no wand to save you, no one to die for you; you're in _my_ lair, therefore it's _my_ rules. And if you choose not to abide by them, _you will be punished_."

Harry smiled grimly, "Same old, same old. Don't you get tired of making the same old speech, Voldy? It isn't going to stop you from killing me, whether I respect your rules or not. Not like I will, anyway. You're not worth the breath!"

Again, Harry found himself dizzied by the slap Voldemort gave him, and this time, his head spinned from the force.

"You're an insensitive little boy with no respect for anyone! Oh, but that will be resolved. _Yes_, it _will_. You will learn to obide, and do as _I_ say, or else you will find yourself in more pain than you are now. You should consider yourself lucky I haven't killed you _yet_."

"Why haven't you?" Harry kept his voice calm, forcing himself to stop before he blew out on a steamroll of rage, "Why don't you get it over with? We both know you want to do it, and there's nothing I have that can stop you. So why don't you do it? If you're planning for me to die begging at your disgusting feet, then you're sadly mistaken."

Voldemort smiled, "No," he agreed, "I do not expect you to die begging me. In fact, I've been pondering whether I should kill you _at all_..."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "That's a laugh! You've tried to kill me, what, four times, and now you want to stop? Why?"

Voldemort didn't answer right away; Instead, he removed his hand from Harry's chin, and drew a long, slender finger over Harry's left cheek, and Harry fliched and pulled away at his touch. He responded to Harry's disobedience with another slap of the face, and Harry's head snapped back and collided with the stone wall, small white spots appearing in front of his eyes. While Harry recovered from the sudden blow, Voldemort continued to repeat the offense. "For reasons I cannot tell you. I've just decided.. _realized_... Dumbledore, as much as I hate to say it, was right -"

At the look of confusion on Harry's face, the smile returned. "Really, now, Harry, even _I_ know when I've been mistaken. It just took me.. a long time.. _too_ long.. to realize it..."

He continued to caress Harry's cheek, and Harry wanted to pull away, but he just didn't have the stregnth; his head was still pounding from three hard slaps to the face, and the last one that caused his head to hit the wall and make him see stars. He was suddenly very tired, and weak, and sore; he just wanted to lie down and sleep. Another of Voldemort's fingers ran over Harry's scar, and Harry winced in pain as his nails ran it over, but it was gone almost immediately, as Voldemort pulled away.

"Now, I think it's time you get some rest, child. You look awfully tired."

Harry blinked, opened his eyes, and stared again at Voldemort's face. Was he imagining it, or did Voldemort sound.. _concerned_? No stregnth left to reply, he let himself slip down the wall, as Voldemort finally let go of him, and his eyes dropped and he heard the door close beside him, indicating that Voldemort had left. Before he had, however, Harry caught a glimpse in his eyes, the triumph no longer concealed, but shining brightly. The facade was gone.

"You think you've won," Harry croaked quietly, staring avidly at the door Voldemort had just walked out of, "You think you've got me right where you want to, don't you? I don't think so. You think I'm just going to lay here day after day, or however long you seek to keep me alive and obide by your rules until you've decided to kill me and beg at your feet? No. Sorry if I've ruined your little plan, but I'll never sit here and beg, or fall for your piece of shit tricks. I'm never going to beg, even if you force me. It's going to take more then threats to make me do what you want..."

And with his mind set firmly on that thought, he let himself drift into sleep.

A/N: This was my first attempt at a fic with graphic nature (rape, violence, etc). Please read and review, and tell me what you think; I definately will be continuing, as this idea won't leave me alone. But if you're uncomfortable with rape, and torture, please don't read; this kind of thing really is disturbing... LOL.

Tainted Visions


	2. Chapter 2

**Bullet With Butterfly Wings**

Disclaimer: Still don't own Harry Potter. Never will.

Rating: M. May go up later for torture, violence, language, and rape.

Summary: Post-OOTP. After being returned from Voldemort's clutches, beaten and raped, Harry's life takes a turn for the worst.

**II.**

**"The Unspoken Plea"**

When Harry awoke again, he had no idea what time it was or how long he had slept; All he knew was that the cell was darker than usual, which must mean that night had fallen. How many hours had passed, and how long he had slept he didn't know, but he was thankful for those few hours of solitude he had. But it hadn't been all that peaceful.

His dreams were filled with scarlet red eyes and white-skinned figures, raw and snake-looking, constantly laughing, and touching him, ending with horrific words and a flash of green lights, and Voldemort's laughter was drowned by his screams of pain...

He had twitched, half-conciously awoken, and thrashed about in his sleep, and it was with a feeling of most regret that he saw what it had done; his left forearm was bleeding slightly, ripped from tearing across the stone floor. He winced, and pressed his right hand over it to stop the flow of blood. The cut was deep.

He barely acknowledged the door when it opened, because he knew who it was going to be, and he didn't want to have to look at him, feel more pain. What he wouldn't give to be just left alone, to die here and rot..

"That looks painful."

A little crease between his eyes, Harry looked up into the face of Lord Voldemort, who was watching him from the doorway. His arms were crossed, and he was frowning, gazing at Harry's wound as though by looking he would be able to mend it. That was another thing shocking about Voldemort's behavior - usually, he would have been glad to know his enemy had sustained an injury.

"Yeah, well, it isn't."

Being alone in a cell for who the hell knows how long had begun to take their toll on Harry; suffice it to say, he was beginning to feel a little reckless, much like Sirius had done. Ignoring the sudden lump in his throat, he took his mind off his recently deceased godfather and instead looked back at the wound, trying to stare less at Voldemort than he needed to.

"Liar."

The hiss left Voldemort's lips, and Harry involuntarily flinched. When Voldemort spoke, it was always a bit intimidating; When he hissed, it was downright terrifying. Before he knew it, however, Voldemort had strode over to him, and Harry was waiting for the blow, waiting for the punishment he would recieve for lying to Voldemort -

But it never came.

Instead, Voldemort had taken his arm, and was closely examining the wound. Harry's spine shuddered with cold. Of all things that Voldemort was most intimidating of, touching him was the worst thing he could have done; It was like bugs crawling around on the skin, a creepy-crawly sensation, mixed with an ice-touch, and snake-like fingers. He didn't like that touch.

Rather than pull away, however, he let Voldemort continue; The less he complained about it, and let the fear show, the less control Voldemort wouldn't have over him. That's how he wanted it.

After a moment, Voldemort, almost gently, released Harry's arm, and stood looking grim, "You might need a blood replenishing potion."

"No thanks," said Harry coldly, the reckless feeling coming back, "It's nothing to worry about. It's not as if I'll _bleed to death _before you get the chance to do it first."

Voldemort's nostrils flared, but he made no further acknowledgement that he had heard Harry. "I shall fetch Snape. You are not to move that arm."

And with that, he left. Harry gawked at the doorway for a few seconds. What the _hell_ was going on here? And who was Voldemort, to order him around, to tell him whether he was hurt or not? It was with a great pang Harry realized he had shown weakness again; he had given more control to Voldemort, more reason for him to be dependant on him, and his services, of all things! And he hated it.

A few moments later, the door re-opened, and the soft footsteps padded across the dungeon floors. It was Snape, he'd know those footsteps anywhere.

"Give me your arm, Potter."

Obediently, because he suddenly didn't have the stregnth to argue, Harry lifted his arm to Snape, and fliched when Snape took it; The touch was soft, and almost gentle, and the searing pain was errupting across it. It had just started to hurt again.

He made no sound as Snape inspected it, and waited, almost with a patience he didn't know he had, until Snape laid it back onto his lap and rose. Harry finally looked up into the black eyes of his professor, and saw, with a jolting shock, that Snape's eyes were filled with, could it be - sadness?

"How did you tear that arm, Potter?"

The voice was soft, and so unlike the cold, harsh tones Harry was used to hearing in his Proffessor. With a one-shouldered shrug, Harry announced, "Dunno. I guess.. I guess I was thrashing around in my sleep, and tore it..."

There was silence for a moment, then, "You had a nightmare."

Harry's head snapped up. Of course - Snape had read his mind. Very easily so, too, when his defenses were down. This didn't make the situation all the easier - that now meant that Voldemort could gain easy access, and as he stared into Snape's eyes, he could tell that's what he was trying to convey, without the use of words, and Harry knew why. Snape had long since turned spy for the Order, and his position was in danger of being revealed everyday; Occlumency was the only thing that protected his cover, and if Harry wanted to protect his own, he'd have to employ it.

_I need your help_, Harry thought, willing for Snape to read his mind, _I need to learn how to block him out_!

Snape, however, turned away, and Harry's heart beat frantically against his ribcage, frantic for communication, before Snape reached the door, and was spared a moment when Snape stopped, and looked back. His eyebrows contracted. Perhaps he had heard Harry's unspoken plea for help..?

"I'll get you that blood replenishing potion. In the meantime, keep your attention focused only on closing your mind. Good-bye."

And then he was gone in a whirlwind of billowing cloak and robes.

How?! Harry seethed angrily himself, How do I block him out? If only I had Dumbledore, or Ron and Hermione, or even Sirius to help me! But I don't! I'm stuck here with the devil himself, and I don't have the ability to close my mind to his invasions! A lot of help you are, Snape!

Harry huffed, and leaned back against the wall, closed his eyes, and let himself drift off, the throbbing in his arm becoming more and more painful as the minutes past, left alone with nothing but Snape's advice, and the painful twinge of his scar.


	3. Chapter 3

**Bullet With Butterfly Wings**

Disclaimer: STILL don't own Harry Potter. Just borrowing the character.. and maybe a few extra ones..;)

Rating: M. May go up later, for torture, violence, language, and rape.

Summary: Post-OOTP. After being returned from Voldemort's clutches, beaten and raped, Harry's life takes a turn for the worst.

**III.**

**"Discovery"**

It took a few hours before Harry's arm had completely stopped bleeding. This came as a blessed relief, but it still bugged him as Snape took the goblet when he had finished, and warned him about closing his mind.

"How?" Harry had asked, somewhat impatient, "Professor, you know I'm useless at Occlemency! Besides, won't he know you're telling me this, should he break into your mind?"

Snape hadn't said anything for a moment, but then he ran a hand through his greasy, Black hair and sighed, "I'm a very accomplished Occlumens, Potter, and the Dark Lord has been unable to breach my defenses before; However, there is always a first time. Therefore, I must be very secretive if I am to teach you - "

"You'll... you'll _teach_ me? Yourself? _Here_?"

Snape sneered, "Yes, Potter, here. And yes, you are correct; I will attempt, one more time, to teach you to close your mind. It may be the only way that will ensure your survival here. Of course, once the Dark Lord discovers you've figured out how to block him out, it will look suspicious..."

"You don't have to do it, then," Harry said quickly; He wasn't about to let Snape risk his position in the Order all because he couldn't figure out how to close his mind. "I'll just.. I'll fight it, I'll clear my mind, like you told me to do last year, and -"

"Don't be stupid, Potter. You know as well as I that you stand no chance against the Dark Lord should he get inside your head. You have as much chance of throwing him out without outside help as an infant does trying to stop a Dark Wizard..."

"That has happened, sir," Harry reminded him.

The sneer was back. "Yes, well, that's beside the point. It was a bad similie. What I'm trying to say is without some guidance, you won't stand a chance."

"I know.." Harry admitted, "But if Voldemort finds out what you're doing, you'll be a goner. Your position is more important than my mind is."

"That's where, I'm afraid, you're wrong, Potter. But then again, you've never been remarkably bright. This, being able to close your mind, is what Dumbledore trusted me to do, therefore it's on _his _orders, and is part of my job as a spy!" Snape growled, his voice low.

"But -"

"And what's more is that last year this is the exact same thing that caused you to go to the Ministry to retrieve the Prophecy the Dark Lord has long since searched for! You've heard what it said, and should he gain access to your mind, he will read your thoughts and see just what it says!"

"_I know_, but -"

"You seem to not care about what should happen if he gains access! Do you care, then, about stopping the Dark Lord? Are you just going to give in and let him win?"

"Of course not!" Harry nearly shouted, "_He killed my parents_!"

"Then allow me to do this! Prove that you care, and stop being so ruefully arrogant! Stop thinking about what should happen to me! You need to worry about you!" Snape replied, his black eyes narrowing, a finger pointed in Harry's direction, "Behavior like that is easily predictable! This 'playing-the-hero' attitude you have... it caused you to go to the Ministry last year and fall into a trap in case you've forgotten!"

"I don't a reminder of what my stupidy did, thanks!" Harry said through tightly gritted teeth. "I got Sirius killed!"

"And do you want another accident like that? Do you want it to be, perhaps, one of your friends who it happens to next time?"

Harry looked at the ground, tugging at his sleeve, "No..."

"Then you need to drop the facade, and admit that your mind is the only thing standing in the way between life and death! Not just your own, but the lives of thousands, maybe _millions_ of people! I'm starting to think you're not the '_Chosen One' _after all. The real Chosen One wouldn't be so weak.."

Harry, without realizing what he was doing, stood to meet eye level with Snape, and began to shout.

"I'M NOT _WEAK_! I JUST DON'T WANT TO SEE ANYMORE PEOPLE DEAD, ALL RIGHT?! I'M AT FAULT FOR WHAT HAPPENED TO SIRIUS, AND I DON'T WANT ANYONE ELSE'S DEATH, MUCH LESS YOURS, ON MY CONSCIENCE!"

Snape's face remained calm, but his voice seemed to resume that soft tone. "What happened to Black wasn't your fault. That was the Dark Lord's. And please don't shout; What should happen if he hears you?"

Harry gave a bitter laugh, but he did not raise his voice again. "Don't kid yourself, Snape. Of course it was my fault! _I'm_ the one who's been so uncapable at mastering Occlumency that I brought my friends on a dangerous, pointless adventure - "

"That's why it's so important that you master it _now_!" growled Snape, and he advanced himself on Harry, his whole body now shaking in fury, his face white. Harry was shocked; He was angry, _very angry_, and it was somewhat terrifying. It was like when he had discovered Harry in his pensieve, the reason for which the lessons had stopped in the first place. That hadn't even been this terrifying. "I'm willing to help you, at the risk of my own life! But if you are prepared to be so insolent as to attempt to learn yourself, then we have nothing to discuss!"

And he turned on his heel, heading towards the door.

"Wait!" Harry called to the other man, and Snape stopped with a second's hesitance. "All right.. you can teach me..."

Snape turned, and though his eyes no longer looked angry, there was something about his look that Harry knew meant that he had better not waste his time. "Good. A wise choice on your part, Potter."

"When will we begin... _sir_?" Harry swallowed, and his gaze found the stone floor again. "I don't know when Voldemort's going to decide to kill me.."

Snape's hand found the doorknob, yet he did not turn it. "Tomorrow evening. As far as I know, the Dark Lord has no plans to kill you.. not for the time being, anyway... and I know quite a lot."

Harry bit his lip, the question he had been burning to ask now leaving his lips. "But _why_? _Why_ does he suddenly not want to kill me?"

Snape sighed. "Because he is unable, as long as the terms of the Prophecy are kept from him. That's why it's so important you master Occlumency; In the end, it just might be the weapon that saves you..."

The knob turned, and Snape was gone, and Harry was left alone again in silence, looking stricken; So Voldemort sought to learn the Prophecy from _him... _

He knew, at that moment, that Snape was right; He had known it all along, however much it pained him to admit it. But there was something, a gnawing feeling in the back of Harry's mind, and one that sat right in the middle of his stomach, that told him that learning the contents of the Prophecy wasn't the only thing Voldemort wanted from him..

No, there was something more. Invading Harry's mind couldn't, and wouldn't be the only thing Voldemort sought out to do.

It was far, far, from it.

Too much dialouge in this chapter, I know. We'll see Voldemort again in the next chapter, plus some torture.. and Harry's Occlumency lessons will begin. But will Voldemort discover what Snape is up to? You'll have to wait and see! . And, I'm sorry this chapter is so short; I'm pretty tired, working on three chapters in one day.. so I need a small break.

Chapter 4 will probably be submitted sometime tomorrow, or perhaps before Monday. I'm planning to do a few more chapters, though, so it might depend. Definately before Monday is over.

Cheers,

Tainted Visions.


	4. Chapter 4

**Bullet With Butterfly Wings**

Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter.

Rating: M. May go up later for torture, violence, language, and rape.

Summary: Post-OOTP. After being returned from Voldemort's clutches, beaten and raped, Harry's life takes a turn for the worst.

**IV.**

**"Revelations"**

It was nearly dawn when Harry awoke again. The light had pierced through the little crevice in the wall, where a two-barred window resided, and Harry had peered through it to see the sun rising on the horizon, and he wondered how many more days he would live to see it.

_Not too long_, said a voice in the back of his head. Voldemort wanted him dead, and and despite the lies he was telling him, Harry knew nothing had changed about that; Voldemort was not one for change.

Harry yawned and stretched, the move suddenly setting off the pain in his forearm that he had tore the night before. Wincing, Harry rubbed it. It was no longer bleeding, and the wound had healed itself with barely any effort, though a faint, white scar now remained, but every now and then, it tingled with pain.

There was a knock on the door, and before Harry could respond, it opened. Harry poked his head up, and saw with immense relief that it was Snape.

"Good morning." Snape nodded.

"'Morning, sir." said Harry in a scratchy voice; his throat was completely dry.

"How's that arm feeling?" asked Snape immediately.

"Fine. Just hurting a bit."

Harry found it best not to lie; it was by far telling Snape the truth than it was Voldemort. After all, Snape was the only one here who didn't want him dead. At this point, pretending he didn't hurt would be a death sentence. He needed something, someone after all...

"I'll get you a pain-reducing potion shortly after breakfast. Are you hungry?"

Harry nodded quickly, "Very."

"Yes, I thought so. You've been here for two days without any food, so I imagine you are. Before you eat, however, I will fetch you some water. The heat alone will make you dehydrated, and this cell isn't in the best shape... I'll have to request a different setting..."

"Thank you, sir." Said Harry.

"You're welcome, Potter. I'll be back momentarily."

Before he turned to leave, Harry stopped him. "Sir..."

Snape turned, "Yes, Potter?"

Harry fidgeted with his sleeve; it was going to take awhile to get used to Snape's new attitude. "Won't he.. won't he know..? Won't he be mad you're doing this..?"

Snape smiled grimly. "_HE_ is being served by his kiss-ups, therefore he is too busy, or too arrogant, to acknowledge what is going on here. He seeks to keep you alive, at least until he gets the answers out of you, so he believes that showing hospitality, and gain your trust, will make you give him the answers he seeks; So for once, and please listen to me, Potter, keep your mouth shut - do not retort, do not speak unless spoken to, and most importantly do not lose your temper; it's the edge he's waiting for, and he'll use anything he has against you, like your anger, to control you..."

"So.. once I tell him the prophecy, I'm expendable... he'll kill me.." said Harry wearily. "I don't have much longer, then. Once I tell him I'm not telling him anything, he'll kill me anyway.."

"He will not kill you if you do not give him the answers; he will if you do. But he will find an alternate route; if he cannot get the answers out of you by force, he will work his way into your mind, and then he will see just what the prophecy contains. It's even more crucial than ever that you learn Occlumency. Later today, I will give you your first lesson. The sooner we start, the more probability we have of keeping the Dark Lord out."

"Okay, sir." said Harry. "Thank you."

Snape nodded. "I will get you that water."

And he left.

Harry slumped back against the wall, and closed his eyes. Well, this was going better than expected; at least he didn't have to see Voldemort first thing in the morning. But Harry expected that Voldemort would not stay out of his way for long; When Harry refused to give the answers, and if he did as Snape was saying, how long did Harry have then? How long would it be before he couldn't get the answers out of Harry and when he intruded his mind? Harry had a feeling it wouldn't be long - either way, the seconds were ticking away, as was his life, and he knew it.

_Don't think about that,_ Harry scolded himself. _You've come this far haven't you? You've just got to do what Snape says and keep your mouth shut. I can't get reckless like I did with Umbridge; I know where that got me - scars on the back of my hand._ And Harry's eyes opened, and he stared at his right hand, where the faint, white marks were etched onto his skin, shining brightly. _I must not tell lies_.

No, he must not let his anger get in the way. He'd have to control it, no matter what; Voldemort could already get inside his head, and he wasn't about to let him hold Harry's anger like a weapon in an open palm over him, too.

Before he could ponder more on his thoughts, however, the door opened. Snape had returned with a goblet full of water, and Harry felt like a child in a candy store to see something he had always taken for granted; you never really knew what you had until it's gone, and what you do have you take for granted, and he vowed to never take a simple, yet important thing such as water for granted again.

"Breakfast will be ready in a few moments," said Snape as he handed Harry the glass and Harry began to drink like a child dying of thirst, "Be careful, now, don't want you to choke."

Harry didn't reply, his mouth too full to do so, but he slowed down, and when he had finished, he handed the goblet back to Snape, and leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed, as the last of the water soothed his raw, dry throat.

"Better?" Snape asked, a rare smile appearing on his face.

"Yes.. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Snape tucked the empty goblet under his arm. "Breakfast should be ready by now. I'll also bring you some Orange juice. You're very dehydrated, and that can be a problem; you'll need fluids at least every hour, otherwise you'll be perceptival to faint."

"Yes, sir." said Harry gratefully.

Snape smiled again, and then he was gone, and Harry was left alone again in silence, his mouth drenched from the fluids it had been deprieved; his insides were rejoicing, and soon would his stomach. He felt he was back at Hogwarts again, with Ron and Hermione, with good food and drinks, things he had always taken for granted, and he would be lying in a comfortable bed in his four-poster in Gryffindor Tower, warmed by the comforters and the security of friends and warmth, and most importantly Dumbledore. But then reality reminded him of where he was, what situation he was in, and the realization that he would never feel those things, experience those things, see those people again, came back full-force to his mind, as if they had been a side dish but suddenly became the meal.

Harry was too involved in these thoughts, in memories, of his imagination working on it's own, pretending he was still in a safe, warm school, that he didn't acknowledge when Snape returned only until he felt the tray being pushed onto his lap, and blinked in surprise, sure he had drifted off back to sleep, and really was imagining..

The tray was full of food, from scrambled eggs, bacon and toast, to pears, a bannana, an apple to orange juice and carrot soup. Harry's mouth watered, and he looked up into Snape's face, and was at a loss for words. Snape seemed to know how he felt, because he placed a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder, and Harry's cold body immediately warmed. His touch wasn't like Voldemort's - cold, mean, unlikeable - it was warm, and gentle, and virtually comforting. Harry smiled at his professor, and unshed tears fell down his face, to express just how strong that gratitude was -

"Eat. I'll check back on you in a little while."

Harry nodded, and using his dirty sleeve, wiped away the tears and sniffled, "Yes, sir. Thank you very much."

Snape smiled, and removed his hand, and stood. Soon, he was gone again, and Harry felt like Snape hadn't left the room at all; it was if someone was watching over him, beside him, giving him the stregnth to actually feel... _good_. For the first time in days.

Harry ate, and as each thing went down his throat, into the bowles of his stomach, he felt his stregnth return, felt the light-headedness he had had the last two days fade, and he felt like he did when he was playing Quidditch, actually having the stregnth to do something..

Unfortunately for Harry, the good feelings he had had for breakfast instantly vanished before ten-o-clock that morning; Voldemort had requested upon seeing him, and Harry dreaded having to see him, dreaded having to look upon his parent's murderer again, the one who would kill him in the end. But he didn't let that stop him; No, he would have to fight, he wouldn't give Voldemort what he wanted - no matter what he did to him. He owed that much to not only his parents, to Sirius, to Dumbledore, but to himself, and most importantly Snape, who had gone out of his way to just to ensure Harry's mind remained un-tainted, that he didn't die before due. Needless to say, he had gained Harry's respect, and Harry felt that the walls of hatred that had existed years before had finally vanished, and Harry wasn't about to let that change by disobeying Snape.

So when the door opened at ten that morning, Harry didn't have to look up to see who it was. He remained staring at the soles of his trainers, which had begun to slowly, steadily, rot away; The Dursleys hadn't bought him new shoes that summer. Harry doubted they even knew if he was still alive - he doubted anyone knew he was still alive. But how much longer that would be, Harry was sure it wouldn't be too much longer.

Still, a cold feeling fell over Harry's shoulders, making him cold again. The aura of Voldemort always gave off that cemetary, ghostly feeling, and his insides turned to ice whenever he was face-to-face with him. He could hear Voldemort's breathing, and his footsteps prowling foward, yet Harry continued to deny his entrance into his sanctuary. He'd just pretend he wasn't there.

"You're looking better."

The high cold voice filled his ears, and Harry shuddered as it radiated off his eardrums. His body remained impassive, as did his face. _Just don't look at him_.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

The impatience in Voldemort's voice couldn't have been disguised even if there was Occlumency for altering one's voice; Still, Harry did not look at him, and Harry felt his heart speeding up, felt the lump in his throat as fear filled his very being -

"_I said, look at me!_!"

Harry's arm exploded with pain, and he shrieked in both shock and pain as he was lifted forcefully off his feet, and thrown back against the wall, his head creating a small crack as it collided. In one swift movement, there was blood, dripping soundlessly from his lip, where a burning had begun to emanate. Tasting blood in his mouth, Harry made no effort to spit it out, as Voldemort held his hands around Harry's chin, crushing it beneath his fingers.

"When I give you an order you will do it, you little bastard." Voldemort seethed, his snake-like snout flaring, his red eyes flashing.

Anger rose in Harry, and he smirked through the pain in his lip and muttered, loud and clear, "Fuck you."

There was a moment's silence, in which Voldemort panted, glaring death itself at him, with Harry staring fearlessly back, before Voldemort's eyes averted away from Harry's face and then the hands loosened, and he dropped Harry forcefully onto the stone floor, Harry groaning as he collided against it.

"Be sure to heal all his wounds, Severus. I'll be back to speak to you again later, Harry."

Harry looked up, his eyes watery as he glimpsed Voldemort procceed out the door, and Snape watching him go, making sure he was gone. Then he kneeled next to Harry and wiped blood off his lip with his sleeve, "Are you all right?"

"Yes," Harry said, blood spurting from the open wound. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I heard him shouting, so I pretended to walk by, just to get a glimpse of what was happening; I knew he was hurting you."

"Thanks, sir." Harry looked at the floor again, "I wasn't going to tell him. I never was."

"I know," said Snape soothingly, "you did good. We're at an advantage now; he'll expect me in more than usual today, and during those visits, I can start your lessons. He's getting angry; he knows you will not tell him. Just keep doing what you've been doing, don't let your anger show, and he'll continue to be at a disadvantage."

"Good," said Harry gratefully. "He just keeps on screwing himself doesn't he? I mean.. he's messing up."

"Yes," Snape agreed, "And he knows it; he seemed to regret his temper when he left you. Be on your gaurd, though, Harry; just because all will seem forgotten, as he will try and act like he regrets it, doesn't mean he really does. It's all part of his plan - you learned that last year from Umbridge."

Harry didn't know what shocked him more; Snape calling him by his first name or the fact that he had realized all that Umbridge had been doing last term. He covered it and nodded. "I will. I'll be careful, sir."

Snape seemed satisfied.

"Good. Now, I will need to get some potions to heal you. You're in for another long night, Harry."

Snape stood and left, carefully closing the door behind him.

Harry sighed and let the frantic beating of his heart slow down; Well, that wasn't as bad as he thought it'd be. Curiously, it had been his advantage, not Voldemort's. He hadn't intimidated him, he hadn't won - Harry had - and he knew it.

Smiling in satisfaction with the thought that all was not yet lost, Harry let himself drift into silence and sleep, his limbs growing lighter and lighter as he did.

A/N:

That's it for now.

Next chap will be up tomorrow. School's back, so it'll be harder to update chapters, but I'll still try and write one everyday. BTW, I think this is my longest chapter yet.. O.O Also, I know I said I would write Harry's first Occlumency lesson in this chap, but I've decided instead to write it in chapter 5.

Chow!

Tainted Visions.


	5. Chapter 5

**Bullet With Butterfly Wings**

Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter.

Rating: M. May go up later for torture, violence, language, and rape.

Summary: Post-OOTP. After being returned from Voldemort's clutches, beaten and raped, Harry's life takes a turn for the worst.

**V.**

**"Bullets"**

Harry had never been more relieved then he was when Snape bestowed him on the news later on that day; Voldemort had apparently left to take care of some business (Harry knew that was never good), and would not be back until late that night.

"So you'll probably be asleep by then." Snape finished telling him, a smile crawling upon his face, "If he decides not to disturb you from it, you'll be spared a confrontation with him tonight."

"Good," said Harry, because he had no intention of seeing Voldemort more than he had to, "and that gives us more time for Occlumency."

"Yes," Snape agreed. "I daresay we've escaped a lucky break."

"Very lucky." Harry agreed back. "He would probably kill you if he knew what you were doing."

"Most likely," Snape nodded, "but for now, he doesn't. My mind is still opperating against him, and tonight, while he is gone, I will inform the Headmaster of the occassions taking place, and of your well-being."

"Really? You're going to talk to Dumbledore?" asked Harry excitedly.

"Yes. I can give him a mesage for you, of course."

"Wha -? Really? You would do that?"

"Of course."

"Okay, um.. I just want Ron and Hermione to know -"

" - that you're all right?" Snape asked.

"Er, yes. And that if I die, I'll die knowing they love me..." Harry finished, somewhat lamely he thought. "If only I could have prepared a will beforehand; I could have left them some of my stuff..."

"You won't need to," said Snape firmly, "The Dark Lord will not kill you. I'll make sure of it. In fact, I think I'm going to help you escape from here."

Harry's head jerked up, "What? But if he finds out -"

"It'll all be worth it." spat Snape. "It's been _my vow _to keep you safe. It's been my _obligation_, on _Dumbledore's orders_, to protect you."

Harry watched Snape for a moment. Something told him that Snape wasn't telling him the whole truth, that he was keeping something from him, but he couldn't think of what, and he stared into his professor's dark, black eyes, trying to see what it was that he was hiding from him.

Snape, however, looked away from his eyes. "Now, tonight's lesson will be a tough one; you'll have to keep up. It will be much harder to actually block out the thoughts, since your defenses are so low, but since you've had a few lessons already, you've had some experience in the essential mastering of Occlumency. The first step is to think of something saddening, something that would make you grieve..."

"Grief?" Asked Harry blankly, "_Grief_ is how you tune out the connection? Dumbledore always told me..."

"Yes, well, he has a habit of leading things far off the mark." Spat Snape, and suddenly there was rage and contempt in his voice, and his black eyes brightened with anger, his face white, and Harry was reminded explicitly of when he had intruded upon Snape's memories in the pensieve, and his rage then, and without realizing what he was doing, held his arms over his face, expecting a blow.

"Harry..?"

Harry peered through the opening his elbows gave, and saw Snape's face, white, but no longer rage-filled. His eyes were soft, and confused, and Harry lowered his arms, feeling like an idiot. _Of course _Snape wasn't going to hit him.

_Or so you think_, said a voice in the back of his head, and it sounded quite unlike his own, sounded as if _someone_ else were speaking through _his_ mind...

"Are you all right, Harry?"

Harry blinked and shook his head. "Yes, sir. I'm fine. So grief destroys any chance of intruding?"

Snape nodded, and the concern faded, and determination of the task took him over again. "Yes. You must think of something that saddens you, and focus your attention only on that. The Dark Lord cannot love, therefore he cannot intrude upon a mind focused only on someone that you love, and something that has happened to them."

"Like Sirius dying," Harry pointed out, nodding in understanding.

"Yes. I think that is most of the reason it could not work last year. You had lost the Diggory boy, yes, but he was in no way extremely close to you. He was not your family, therefore the blow would not have been as hard as it was losing your Godfather. Not that you didn't care about Diggory," said Snape fairly, "it just wasn't enough to block out the connection."

"So... if I had focused more of my grief and thoughts on Cedric it would have stopped Voldemort?"

"Most likely. I should have told you this last term, but I thought Dumbledore had given you some guidance on how to block the connection."

"He didn't," said Harry bitterly. "He didn't even _look_ at me all last term, and only did because of the prophecy. Sometimes I don't think he even really cares for _me_, but just about what I have to do and my scar..."

Snape's nostrils flared, and for a moment Harry thought he was going to kick something, but then he sighed deeply and said, "Dumbledore cares about you very much. He just has a funny way of showing it."

Harry tugged at his sleeve, "I suppose so, sir."

He had that feeling that he was being misled again, the truth being kept from it.

_That's all they ever do_, said the voice in his head again, _always the same thing.. never the whole truth, they don't think you need to know. People are cruel like that, playing with your emotions, with your feelings.. _

Snape was staring at him concerndly again, and Harry immediately fell out of his trance. "So what other steps do I take, sir?"

"Well," Snape again returned to his usual determined-teacher attitude, "Grief is only part of the process; you have to think of nothing else, and not of the fear of hoping he does not break into your mind be your first thought. In fact, I highly reccommend that goes to the back of your mind, as well as memories of the prophecy. You see, if you think of what the prophecy contains when you're attempting to block him, it will go to the front of your mind, and therefore can be an open book. So full concentration on what you're doing is required."

"Like with inverbal spells." Harry acknowledged.

"Yes. Except the difference is you're not thinking of a spell to block; you're thinking of a memory, a grief-filled memory, of a person or of something horrible."

"So it's kind of like a Patronus," Harry said. "Except instead of thinking about a happy memory, you have to think of a sad one."

"Correct."

Snape reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand, "Ready to start?"

Harry nodded, "Yes, sir. No wand is needed, right?"

"No," Snape answered, "Besides, the Dark Lord took yours when you were taken here, so even if we wanted to try, we wouldn't be able."

"Right.." said Harry. "He just had to take my wand, didn't he?"

Snape smiled grimly, "Think of a particularly sad event in your life, and push that thought to the front of your mind."

Harry closed his eyes, and images swam in his head: _A black-haired baby was screaming and crying, a woman thudded to the floor, dead; a man with glasses was blasted with Green light as, just above him, in the far reccesses of the house, his wife screamed; a dark-haired man was falling through a ragged veil; a boy fell dead beside him; a red-eyed, snake-fingered man was laughing as he killed the woman; _His head was breaking, and his scar was pulsing, he would surely die of these thoughts, of these screams of horror, of this pain, of the cries, he was going to break, to _break_...

And then it stopped. Harry opened his eyes.

Snape was on one knee, his breathing coming in ragged breaths. Panting hard, he looked up, and Harry was stunned to see that he was smiling.

"Well done, Harry." Snape got to his feet. "For a first attempt in so long... I couldn't stay there long..."

"You still got in, sir?" Asked Harry, disappointment washing over him.

"Yes, but it was very brief, not even five seconds. The Dark Lord cannot see the prophecy within that short time; it takes a few seconds to be accessed, to form, and by then, he will have been kicked out of your mind."

"So that's it?" Asked Harry, amazed. "I've learned how to block?"

"For the most part." Snape sounded impressed against his will. "But I think we should do a few more lessons just in case. The less accessible your mind is, the better."

"Yes, sir." Said Harry. "I thought I was going to die, though, when I was attempting it..."

Snape's eyes narrowed, "That is unusual.."

"What?" Asked Harry, sure he had heard wrong? "Unusual? How? Do most people _not_ experience that..?"

"No, most don't," Explained Snape, "But it is not completely out of the question. Remember, your first attempt took a lot out of you, made you sick.."

"But that was only because I saw the vision of Mr. Weasley attacked, and because Voldemort was in my mind.." Harry's heart was beating frantically. _Could it be_..?

"Yes, but you did not successfully have the power to block it out. I had quite a few sensations my first time actually succeeding. It takes some getting used to, and is gone by usually the third or fourth attempt; We just need to work more on it."

"Yeah," said Harry, not altogether truthfully, because his mind was swimming; Had Voldemort gained access to his mind before he had even known?

"For now, however, I think we need a break," said Snape. "Hungry? I'll bring some food."

"Yes, sir. Thank you." Harry said, realizing just how hungry he was.

Snape smiled. "I'll be back momentarily. He's expected to be gone another few hours, so we'll see if we can get another lesson in before he returns. If you are up for it, of course."

"Yes, yeah I am," said Harry automatically; he wanted to know for sure whether Voldemort was inside his mind, and he wanted to be able to kick him out. "I'm definately up to it."

"All right. Then after dinner, I think."

Suddenly, several things happened in very quick session:

Harry had a bad feeling somewhere around his gut, and shouted "Look out!"; Snape opened the door, and was immediately blasted off his feet, his breath hard and quick, his wand flying out of his hand; the door burst off it's hinges as Voldemort stepped inside, death itself written across his face; Harry screamed as his scar exploded with pain and he collapsed to his knees; Many Deatheaters were laughing, and Snape was groaning.

"You won't be teaching lessons anytime soon, Snape," said Voldemort with a demonic smile on his lip-less mouth, "In fact, I don't think you'll ever teach another class _again_..."

Harry heard a scream of pain as his world tumbled over into darkness, and he crashed onto the dungeon floor, red eyes glancing menacingly at him.

A/N:

Wow, talk about a cliffhanger!

I'm edging toward my main goal now, so the first third of what I wanted to write is done.. well, not really; I'm planning so much more. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially MelindaPotter. Thanks so much, again. I'll write another chapter tomorrow. Stupid school. LOL

Take care everyone,

Tainted Visions.


	6. Chapter 6

**Bullet With Butterfly Wings**

Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter.

Rating: M. May go up later for torture, violence, language, and rape.

Summary: Post-OOTP. After being returned from Voldemort's clutches, beaten and raped, Harry's life takes a turn for the worst.

Note: First chapter that does not revolve around Harry..

MelindaPotter - Yes, yes they definately help! So thank you so much, I really appreciate it!

chibirei1227- Thanks so much for reviewing. What's going to happen to Harry and Snape? You'll have to read to find out:) But I will give you a little hint: nothing good. ;) I've never planned to kill Snape off, though, so he's safe, and Harry is too, but when I'm done, I think he'll wish he was dead.. LOL. Nah, I'm kidding; I don't like to torture Harry, I just wanted to try something different, lol.

txgirl123 - Ah, I agree! School interrupts EVERYTHING. Especially this bitch of a nurse I have at school who's really getting on my case; it really helps when I can come home and write, write this fic, and write some frustrations into it.. which is why I'm digging the torture.. LOL. Ha ha, a few nights ago, before I had any idea where I was going to go with this, I lied awake planning, thinking of what I could and should do to make it different than other Harry-gets-raped by Voldemort fics; and it actually has me inspired to write it, unlike so much other stuff. Plus, this song called "Whispers in the Dark" inspired me a great deal, because it reminds me so much of a demonic-love/hate thing..especially with my fic.. So, I'm, like, addicted to that song right now! XD

**VI.**

**"The Deciever"**

He heard people talking. People talking about _him_. His eye twitched, threatening to open, but he kept both firmly closed, and hardly dared to breathe, listening to what the unknown voices were conversing.

"We're lucky we got there when we did.."

At this, his eyes opened; he knew that voice.

"Albus?" He croaked.

"Severus.."

Albus Dumbledore sped to his side, "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I -"

And then it all came back; Harry's warning, opening the door, seeing scarlet red eyes and a snake-like face, a high cold laugh blasting through his eardrums, feeling pain in his chest -

"Harry!" Severus shot up, ignoring the pain in his abdomen. "Is he..? _Where's Harry_?"

"Calm down, Severus," said Albus gently, "We failed to rescue him. However, we are planning on returning soon to -"

"What do you mean you _failed_?" yelled Snape in a fury, "Are you telling me that he is still stuck there?! My God, Albus, the boy could be dead -"

"Please don't shout, Severus. Let me explain..."

Snape snorted in response, but leaned back against his pillow. He took a moment to survey his surroundings; A woman was standing at the side of him, Madam Promfrey. He was lying on the one of many beds in a otherwise vacant room with the exception of a small back room filled with bottles, and potion goblets; of course - the hospital wing.

Albus sighed, pulled up a stool, sat down, and ran his hands over his face.

"When we invaded, all of the Death Eaters had left their post. Suspicious, the other Order members and myself trudged along further, and we discovered a group of them, along with Voldemort, huddled over you, and while the Order fought them and Voldemort, I managed to apparate away with you. I only got you away just in time for Voldemort's killing curse to miss your head -"

"So basically you're saying you wanted to make sure my life was saved and not Harry's?" Snape spat.

When Albus spoke again, his voice was a low croak, almost inaudible, "We need a spy in the Order, Severus.."

"Who gives a damn?!" snapped Snape, and he was suddenly on his feet, white rage infuriating inside of him, "Who gives a fuck about the Order and it's needs if the one we're fighting against has our cause, the one we're supposed to protect?!"

"Language, Severus. We could only get one of you.."

"Then you should have got him!" Roared Snape, "Voldemort will seek to kill me now anyway, now that he knows my true loyalties, so it really doesn't matter now if I live or die; eventually, he will set out to kill me as he has set out to kill Harry! Don't you understand? It will mean dying earlier than I planned, but I am prepared for -"

"It matters," interrupted Dumbledore, "Because Harry's chance of survival was always slim to none."

"What are you talking about?"

Albus removed his hands from his face finally, and Severus saw tears trickling down Albus's old cheeks.

"I am saying that Harry has never had a chance against Voldemort; One way or another, either today, tomorrow, or some day after that, Harry will just be another victim of Lord Voldemorts, fallen like all the rest..."

"_So you're giving up on him_?" Growled Severus, his teeth barred, "After all of this - after _Lily_ - you're going to let him die? You're going to let _Lily's_ _son_ die?!"

"I do not wish it, but I cannot pretend that I had a choice, a chance to withdraw him from the path he's been destined to travel.."

"Destinies change, Dumbledore!" Severus countered. "We can save his life just as much as anyone else's! If only I hadn't told Voldemort the damned prophecy, I could have spared Lily's life.. James's life.. and maybe even Harry's. But you - you're giving up, you're going to let him die without even trying to stop it? Is this why you've told him the prophecy? To hint that he's never had a chance of survival? Is that how little you care about him, Dumbledore?_ Love _him? Do you even know?"

"I do love and care for Harry..."

"This is not love!" Snape yelled, spit flying out of his mouth, "This.. _this_.. what you're doing to that boy - is not - _is not love_.. "

"I've said I regret it, but I'll never be able to say it enough; There isn't any choice left, Severus. He has Harry, and he's going to kill him. There was no chance of ever saving him tonight. The most I could manage was you.."

"Well," there was undisguised disgust in Snape's voice, "I'm not prepared to give up on Harry as easily as you, Dumbledore. I don't give up on the people I love, you should know that Albus."

Albus looked at him through shocked-eyes. "You've grown to care, after all, for the boy, Severus? To _love_ him?"

Severus held up his hands, "I don't know! I suppose I have - I felt something for his _mother_, after all.. I'm obligated to protect him.. but these last few days with him.. he doesn't show it.. but he's scared. He knows he will die soon. And I promised him, I _vowed_ to him, that I would help him. And if that means confronting Voldemort again, to get Harry out of there, I'll risk it. That's more than I can say for you.."

And without thinking, he strode away and out of the hospital wing doors, ignoring Albus's call of his name and Prompfry's fussy attitude; Why had what Dumbledore said, about him loving Harry, affected him so much? Why had he felt the sudden lump in his throat when he thought of the boy? All he knew was that one thing was true - he _wasn't_ prepared to give up on him. He would not leave Harry there, let him become another victim of Lord Voldemort's, no matter what he had to do; Even if it were at the expense of his own life, he would not leave until Harry was returned.

No, he would not let Harry's life be filled with fear, pain of being let down, false promises and deceit.

He opened the castle doors and strode out onto the night, pressed the Dark Mark, and prepared to Apparate to the Riddle House, and summon himself to Voldemort, meet the end of his life, his death; He felt no more loyalty to Hogwarts, to Dumbledore, only to Harry, because the reasons of which he had fought, and the false promises he had been corrupted of, had finally cleared his mind, and he realized that not even Voldemort himself could have played with someone's emotions as much as Dumbledore had done -

Dumbledore had become the ultimate deciever.

"I have healed Yaxley's wounds, my Lord."

"Thank you, Nott," said a high, cold voice, scarlet red eyes staring at the man kneeling before his feet, "And what of the boy?"

"The boy is currently still in a state of unconciousness, doesn't seem to be coherent, and is having random cunvulsion spells, I'm not sure -"

"_Thank you_," said Voldemort coldly, "Now if you will proceed to make dinner.."

"Yes, my Lord." Said Nott, and obediently rose to his feet and left the room.

"What do you plan to do, my Lord?" Asked a man in the far back corner, his arms crossed; His long, blonde hair fell to his shoulder's a look of smugness written all over his face, and his robes falling to his feet.

"I shall see to the boy myself," said Voldemort, "However, I must warn you, Lucius, in the future do not question my motives; Lord Voldemort does not like to be interrogated.." He added threateningly. Lucius flinched.

"Not at my Lord, I apologize for my insolence."

"Yes. Don't let it happen again."

Voldemort turned on his heel and swept from the room.

_I have more important affairs than Lucius's insolence, dim though it may be_, he thought, walking slowly to the cell he knew contained the boy. _After all, I must attend to my captives, the most important of all. Without that traitor Severus to protect him, he no longer will have any will to resist me.. and soon.. will have no will to fight, to live, and then he'll be at my mercy, and I shall eliminate the threat I sought to years ago. How people have thought that a mere child can defeat me is ludicris.. but soon.. soon, I shall prove them wrong. _

_A/N: _Sorry this chapter is so short; I had a hard day at school today.. and I'm tired, and hungry.. LOL. Anyway, thanks so much to everyone who's reviewed, I didn't think I'd even get THIS many reviewers. So thanks again, you're really inspiring me to keep writing! Another chapter will be done either later or tomorrow; I have two more hours online tonight, so I might take a short break, then write more. Thanks again, everyone.

Oh, Harry will be back in the next chapter; a lot more. The next chapter is where the story really starts, where the torture begins. I've had a bad enough day to actually write it now, so I think I will. :) Also, sorry for how I made Dumbledore out; ever since book 7, I've been very frustrated and angry with him for condeming Harry to death (sorry if none of you have read it yet..).

Cheers,

Tainted Visions, (Working on chapter)


	7. Chapter 7

**Bullet With Butterfly Wings**

Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter.

Rating: M. May go up later for torture, violence, language, and rape.

Summary: Post-OOTP. After being returned from Voldemort's clutches, beaten and raped, Harry's life takes a turn for the worst.

berkie88 - Sorry I didn't get to you before; your review was submitted right after I submitted the chapter, so I'm sorry. Thanks so much for reviewing; this takes place a few weeks after HBP, so it's still close to the end of OOTP. But the non-verbal spells have happened, and once Harry gets back at school, there will be more things that are included from HBP (Dumbledore's death? Please tell me in your reviews if you want that included.). There are some DH things as well (Snape's love for Lily, Dumbledore's "master plan"), so there's some reference to the last two books.. But most of it is AU.

**VII. **

**"One Last Wish,"**

"Harry..."

Someone was calling his name.

"Dad?" He croaked, his eyes closed, sure he was dreaming.

"No, Harry.."

"Pr-Professor..?"

"Try again, Harry..."

He opened his eyes. And screamed. The response? A slap across the face.

"Now, now," said Voldemort with a sneer, "is that how you greet people?"

Harry's eye twitched, "No, it's just how I greet _you_."

Voldemort smiled, "Oh, Harry. So modest, aren't you?"

"If that's what you want to call it," said Harry indifferently, "I really don't give a damn."

"Oh, but you do," Voldemort gave a small, shaky laugh, and one long slender, white finger trailed along Harry's cheek. "After all, that has always been your greatest vulnerability."

"And that has always been your greatest weakness." Retorted Harry, jerking away at Voldemort's touch, "You call it vulnerability, but I call it stregnth; and the fact that I can care for people proves I'm more of a human than you are."

_SLAP_! Harry's head spinned.

"Oh, you think so, do you?" Voldemort hissed, his red eyes dialating.

"Yes," said Harry calmly, "I do. In fact, I know it."

_SlAP_! The burning continued, but Harry made no further movement that he had felt Voldemort's slap at all.

"What? No retorts to give? Got to think with your fist, do you?"

There was silence for a moment, in which Voldemort stared piercingly at him and Harry thought he would whip out his wand, he would see the green light, would feel his soul ripped from his body, dead, but he hadn't - He was still alive.

"No, I was simply implying that I don't have to talk big talk to emphasize my point." Voldemort answered after a moment.

"Yeah, well, I don't just talk; I tell the truth."

Another hard slap to the face.

"It appears I've gone too easy on you, and I've underestimated your courage, your state of mind." said Voldemort slowly.

"Yeah, I guess you have." Harry could barely talk his face was so blistered. "But you underestimate things too much, and when you do, they come back and wind up being the things that do you in."

"Perhaps," said Voldemort. "But right now.. I think I need to teach you a little _lesson_.. in _respect_ and _obedience_, and what happens when you give cheek.."

"Gee, if it's any worse than Snape's lessons, I might actually enjoy it," said Harry sarcastically.

Voldemort responded with another slap to the face, and Harry felt his lip wound re-open with the force; He spat blood out of his mouth, and glared up at Voldemort, who seemed to be enjoying himself. With one hand, he forced Harry to his feet, who immediately collapsed against his own weight. Voldemort growled, and sent a kick straight at Harry's face. Harry felt blood squirt endlessly from his nose, and knew that it was broken. He lay on his side, staring up at his capturer with nothing but hatred in his eyes.

Voldemort smiled, "Yes, it hurts, doesn't it? I've only just begun to play. _Get up_!"

And he reached down and grabbed Harry by the scruff of his neck, forcing him to his feet again. Not even before Harry had regained his balance he was lying on the floor again, a gash on his right cheek, combined with the blood from his nose and mouth. He sputtered, and spat it out again, as it dripped onto his dirty shirt.

"Get up, now! Get up!" Voldemort shrieked, and he whipped out his wand.

Harry immediately rose, and knew Voldemort was doing the same thing he had done two years ago, when he had forced Harry to bow to him. Soon it stopped, and Harry struggled to remain upright. In no time at all it seemed, again, he was on his back, breathing harshly for breath as Voldemort stared down at him.

"Are you getting tired of our game, Harry? Are you hurting?" He cooed mockingly. "Need mummy to come and hold you? Too bad for you that's she's _dead_.."

Harry felt rage like he never felt before. With stregnth he didn't know he had, he willed himself to get to his feet. Before he knew what he had done, he found himself and Voldemort lying on the ground, his hands wrapped around Voldemort's throat.

"The game's on you, prick," Harry could barely form the words his rage was so untameable. "Too bad for you that you're always losing on your own game..."

He found himself smiling, a satisfaction he had never known before, wrapping his arms around Voldemort's throat, watching his eyes show fear -

And then it was gone.

Harry was kicked off of him like a ragged doll, and Voldemort stood above him, screaming in fury. "Showing some guts now, are you?" He sneered. "You're a few years too late, Harry. _Crucio_!"

Then, suddenly, pain washed over him, through his insides, like fire, burning away his flesh. He felt as if his body were on fire, and he screamed, screamed until he lay panting on his back, his eyes blurry with tears watching Voldemort smile sardonically above him.

"The long game has ended, Harry.."

He lowered his wand. "We'll play another later.. and believe me, it will be a game.."

And Harry barely recognized when the door shut and Voldemort was gone, and for the first time in days, succumbed to real tears.

_Where are you, Snape_? He thought miserably. _Where are you? Dumbledore... anyone... Where are you when I need you..?_

_Gone_, he answsered himself. Everyone was gone. No one would save him now. It was the end. He would be dead by later tonight, and there was nothing he could do about it, nothing that he could do that would save him from the death that had supposed to come at the age of one, when his parents died to save him. He was long over-due.

He turned over and retched, and gagged as it left his mouth. Maybe he would die here, _now_, and wouldn't have to feel anymore pain?

_Just let me die_, he thought,_ let me die. If there is a God, please.. let me have this one wish..._

And then it was over, he felt himself fall away, and knew that his wish had been granted.

A/N.

Wow, this chapter was kind of hard to write, and it's not even the rape yet.. which will happen next chapter, I think.. so prepare yourselves! LOL. I'll work on that tomorrow, and will probably write it out on paper at school when I'm not doing school work; it really just makes it all easier, makes you know how to write it out, though it mainly just comes naturally. Always nice to have it written out already though.

Take care, everyone!

Tainted Visions.


	8. Chapter 8

**Bullet With Butterfly Wings**

Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter. At all.

Rating: M. Rating may go up later for torture, violence, language, and rape.

Summary: Post-OOTP. After being returned from Voldemort's clutches, beaten and raped, Harry's life takes a turn for the worst.

**VIII**.

**"Broken Wings"**

The night was silent and cold. Raging winds shook the windows of nearby houses, the few that they were, and it howled as if there were whispers in the wind. Leaves rustled and blew dispersed on the ground, and the grass swayed with force. One week remaining until October approached, the sudden cold air was not the least unexpected; the weather forcecasters had been calling for colder temperatures since the last weekend, and it seemed expected that the trend would continue.

A sudden snap of a twig sent a group of birds soaring in flight; A man stepped out from the shadows, face impassive and a black cloak around his arms. His boots were long and almost visibly hidden by his long, black pants. A sudden gust blew, and Severus cringed against it and wrapped the cloak more forcerfully around him. He walked a short distance onto the moonlit lane, and shivered. This movement was not induced from the cold, however.

Standing not even twenty feet from him, was the Riddle House. He stopped, and stared at it, his eyes narrowed. He averted his eyes, and saw the tombstone that bore the names of Lord Voldemort's parents, and fell over the skeletical figure that he knew the boy had been tied to two years ago. With his mind set firmly on the boy, he stared back at the house; It gave the look of a haunted house on Holloween, and though he knew that most children would run from fear of it, he could not, would not; He had business here, and though the occupants inside were scarier by far than most holloween monsters, he knew he could not flee: Harry needed him.

Hang in there, Harry, he thought, beginning his descent towards the house, I'll get you out. I promise you that. I owe that much to you.. to your mother.. I won't give up on you like Albus did, because you need somebody. Someone who won't give up on you on the first oppurtunity they get.

He took another determined step forward, hoping against hope that Harry was all right. His anxiety and fear of what the boy had to have gone through by now was increasing at an alarming rate, and he prayed that he hadn't gotten there too late, prayed that Harry was still alive.

There was light all around him. It hurt his eyes; Yet, it did not blind them, and it was not as harsh as that blinding light. He yeilded to it, and felt it was a part of him somehow. The light seemed to come from his very soul, as if his soul had suddenly expressed interally feelings externally..

He looked around. The place didn't look and seem familiar. Where the hell he was, he had no idea, he only knew that he liked it here. It was warm, and peaceful, and comforting. He was in no pain, there was no blood, there were no red eyes and a snake-like face haunting him like a shadow..

He moved his feet on the surface he stood upon, and realized that it was fluffy. Was he standing on some kind of cloud? Or pillow?

"Harry?"

The voice behind him made Harry turn. When he did, catching sight of the person standing before him, he felt tears sting his eyes, "Mum?"

"Yes, honey," she answered, her beautiful face absolutely shining with tears, "It's me, Harry. You're safe, now."

He knew she wasn't lying - he had always known. He fell to his knees, no longer able to hold his own body weight, as a rush of emotion flowed through his veins like venom, and tears poured down his face. "My wish was granted, then..."

"No, honey," said Lily, kneeling down before him and taking his face in her hands, "You are not dead - your mind and body are unconcious, your heart is still beating, you're still alive - your soul has just drifted, temporarily. But you are not dead."

"I'm not..?" He asked.

She carassed his cheek, "It's not your time yet."

"Then when?" Harry spoke softly, almost desperately. "When? When will it all finally end? When will I finally be free?"

She smiled, "I don't know, Harry; I'm unable to look past the present. I've watched you everyday, everyday, and I'm so proud of you, Harry. I love you so much.."

As the three words left his mother's mouth, Harry was unable to choke back a sob and threw his arms around his mothers, "I love you, too.."

"Shh.." She held him, and let him sob against her chest, running her long gentle fingers through his hair, "I know you do. I know.."

They sat there in silence for a long time, how long Harry didn't know, but he found comfort in stregnth, sitting here in his mother's arms, and though it was new, though he had never felt it before, it felt old, as if he felt it before but could not remember it until now, and he realized that he never wanted to forget it ever again.

He finally pulled away. "Thanks, mum."

She smiled again, and continued to assault his untidy hair, "You look so much like your father.."

"Where is he?" Harry asked, seeing that his father was not there, "Where is he? Is he here?"

She nodded. "Yes, Harry. He is."

And then Harry saw him, untidy black hair so like his own, glasses that fit on his face and came to the bridge of his nose like his did, smiling brightly at the look on his son's face. "Hiya, son."

Another tear trickled down Harry's cheek, "Hi, Dad."

James knelt beside Lily and stared at Harry avidly, "God, he looks so much like me.."

"He sure does." said Lily fondly.

Harry blushed. "Mum..."

He found that being looked at affectionately like his father was somewhat disturbing.

Lily laughed at Harry's embarrassment and James's smile widened.

"I hope your givin' old Snivellous trouble for me, Harry."

Harry frowned, "He's nice to me, now, Dad."

"Surprising, from that git." James said, but the smile didn't vanish from his face. "I'll have to thank him one day."

"Thank you, James," said Lily approvingly.

Harry smiled. "Yeah. Thanks, Dad."

"Ah, don't mention it." Muttered James as Lily planted a kiss on him, but his cheeks were as red as Harry's; Harry felt he was intruding upon something private, his parents kissing, and looked away.

"You'll be having to go back now, Harry." said Lily suddenly. Harry looked at her.

"What? But no, Mum.. I don't want to leave you again.."

"You'll see me again, Harry," Lily assured him. "It's just not the right time."

"When's it ever right?" said Harry, unable to stop himself. "When's it ever a 'right time' to die? You were too young, Cedric was too young, and so was Sirius; Is that a right time to die? Young?"

"No, Harry," said James, the smile gone, "But you have to understand that some people aren't ready to die yet. You are still a kid, and kids should not die; Adults, they're a different story..We've lived out our childhood's, and those are the years of innocence and fun."

"It still doesn't seem fair.." Harry said softly. "No one should die young.."

"I know, but it happens." His mother said, and she had a look in her eye that Harry felt chastised under. "You need to go back. I want you to go back, back to your life, your friends."

"That seems unlikely of happening, since Voldemort still has me.." said Harry bitterly. "I'd rather be dead than stuck there with him.."

"Dumbledore has saved Snape; Odds are, he'll be back for you sooner or later." James said, and now his voice was firm. "You have to trust him, Harry. Trust us. There's always dark times ahead, but there's also good; We wouldn't send you back if we didn't think there was still a chance."

Harry sighed, "All right. I'll do it."

"Good boy," Lily said approvingly. "Just know we love you, Harry. We always have, always will. No one can change that. No one."

Harry nodded. "I know.."

And then his parents were becoming farther and farther away from him, still smiling, and he forced one upon his face, feeling as though something were being ripped from him as everything went black again.

He felt his fingers twitching. His eyes were becoming less and less heavy. He tasted something coppery in his mouth that had to be blood; his body was aching all over, and his head was pounding as though a bludger had hit him. His face burned, blistered. He opened his eyes.

He was back in Voldemort's dungeon. Lifting his head a little, he licked his chapped lips to dry them, and tasted blood as he did. His gaze wandered around the room, for any sign of Voldemort, but he appeared not to be there; He had left him alone, to die, and for a fleeting moment, Harry wished he had.

But his parent's words came back to him: It wasn't his time. Death wasn't calling for him yet, and Harry knew that had to be a good sign; Perhaps fate had different plans for him, after all..

Groaning, he forced himself to sit up, and immediately crumpled back against the wall. He just didn't have the stregnth to move. None at all. His stomach was growling for good, his throat dry as a desert, and he was hurting everywhere. His upper lip was crusted where the blood from his broken nose had dried, and he knew as he raised a hesitant finger to it, that it was still broken. It was extremely tender. He pulled away.

At that moment, the door opened, and Harry was staring up at Voldemort again.

He snickered, "Still alive, are you?"

"Yes," Harry forced himself to speak. "Why? Didn't think I would be?"

"Oh, no, I didn't expect you to be dead," He walked towards Harry, a smile on his face that Harry didn't trust or like one bit. "I just figured you would have given up by now and succumbed to death."

"Not quite yet," Harry said defiantly. "I don't give up that easily."

"Then I suppose there's no point in asking you of the contents of the prophecy, is there?" Voldemort asked, bending down in front of Harry so that they were face-to-face; or rather, Harry was looking up into Voldemort's face.

"No," Harry answered, "No, there isn't. So you might as well as kill me now."

"Oh, I don't think I'll do that just yet," He smirked, an a hand touched Harry's cheek gently, "I have quite a different plan. Another game."

"If you're planning to beat me to death, then you've almost succeeded already." Said Harry, unable to cringe away at Voldemort's touch.

Voldemort laughed softly. "No, that's far from my intention." He continued the touch. "You see, Harry, I've learned finally that there are different ways to break someone other than killing them.. Dumbledore made me realize that.."

In one swift movement, he pushed Harry down onto the floor, and Harry groaned from the pain. Voldemort was hovering over him a split-second later, and he had Harry's chin in one hand. "I want you to bleed, Harry; I want you to suffer..."

He turned Harry over roughly onto his back, and Harry cried out as his face collided with the stone floor, Voldemort's vice-like grip still trapping his chin. He tried to turn, to scurry away, but Voldemort had him too tight. He felt cold air suddenly, and realized his pants had been removed.

Oh, my god! Harry thought, and panic rose in him like never before, fear engulfed his very being like never before. I know what he's going to do!

He tried harder than ever to get away, and perhaps his frantic attempts didn't go unnoticed, because Voldemort shoved his face down and laughed.

"Yes, Harry, you will suffer.."

Please, God, help me! Harry thought, his body shaking in fear, Please don't let him do this!

But he knew it was in vain; He knew it was as Voldemort shoved himself into him, and he screamed as he never screamed before. He thought he would surely die of this, his throat was tearing against his screams that turned into sobs within seconds, and he was powerless to stop it.

"Please.." Harry begged, "Please stop! Please!"

He couldn't hold it back as he retched onto the floor, a puddle now mixed with vomit and tears.

Voldemort laughed above him.

"Please," Harry sobbed, "Please. No. Stop. Please.. I'm sorry... I'm sorry.."

Voldemort continued to laugh, and Harry continued to sob and beg, saying the same things over and over again. "Please stop.."

Finally it did. He felt blood run down him as Voldemort ejected, and when he heard the footsteps and saw the feet in front of his face, he knew it was over.

"You no longer have the will to resist me, Harry. Soon.. you shall be dead.. but first.. later.. I shall see the prophecy. Now that you've broken so easily."

And he let out a loud cackle and left, the door slamming shut behind him.

Face still matted with tears, and insecurity and pain washing over him, Harry tried harder than ever to sit up, hardly able to breath as sobs wracked his body. He covered himself and pulled his pants back up, unable to look at the damage Voldemort had caused. He retched again, tears running down his neck and onto his shirt, and it seemed no time at all that he fell back against the floor, unable to stay awake any longer.

He was asleep so fast he didn't hear the footsteps from the window above him; failed to see Severus Snape climb down next to him, and unable to feel him gather him into his arms.

"It's okay, now, Harry. I'm here. He can't hurt you anymore."

And with an enourmous effort, as he carried the broken child over his shoulder, Severus escaped back out through the window and into the night, and Apparated back to the Castle grounds.

A/N:

(Wipes away tears) Oh, god.. I had no idea this was so hard to write.. I feel so bad for Harry.. but.. I wanted to write it.. it just wasn't easy to do at all... LOL.

Anyway, Harry's saved now, so the first major plot point of my story is complete; now for the long chapters of after-effects and the other plots I'm going to include..

Thanks so much to everyone for reviewing. This chapter was by far the hardest to write.

Take care,

Tainted Visions.


	9. Chapter 9

**Bullet With Butterfly Wings**

Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter. At all.

Rating: M. Rating may go up later for torture, violence, language, and rape.

Summary: Post-OOTP. After being returned from Voldemort's clutches, beaten and raped, Harry's life takes a turn for the worst.

A/N: Eh, sorry for the LONG wait; I've had a TON of homework to do, don't get out until the afternoon (late.. 3 pm..) and been worked like a dog. Plus, this weekend we had to go out and get my bro's school supplies, and I had no time to work on the fic. I'm sorry! However, I've been writing it in my notebook at school, and just write it out on here (and change things, of course, if I don't like how I wrote it). So here's this chap! BTW, anyone hear the song "What Have You Done?" by Within Temptation? I swear, this fic is, like, BASED off that song! Well, from Harry's P.O.V, that is. Might make a trailer-vid from this fic and post it on Youtube. :D Ah, well. Enjoy the chap!

Barbara - I tend to agree; Dumbledore was a misguided man, manipulative and decision-making. I do still like Dumbledore, and respect him, but Snape has gained my respect far more than Dumbledore has, and even though his past was pretty bad, and we saw a more unexpected side of him, what he was planning for Harry was even more worse, and disturbing, then ruling muggle-borns. Even if Harry hadn't died, what if the spell had killed Harry instead of the Horcrux? What if Harry HADN'T had all three Hallows or really was the Master of the Elder Wand? He would have died then, and Dumbledore would have known.. ah..

Deathly Phoenix - I agree, it's quite sad - but it's only going to get worse.. because poor Harry's going to have to come face-to-face with Voldemort on more than one occassion throughout the story.. LOL

Mystiksnake - Thank you very much, glad you like it!

Doralinda - Severus is DEFINATELY going to help Harry. But will Harry let him in? And also, is someone else trying to help Harry that we can't see? hint, hint.

txgirl123 - Hehe, I never liked Snape until after Deathly Hallows, so I'm new to liking him. Knew he was innocent and on Dumbledore's side, of course, and in love with Lily, but I really didn't like him.. love him now. XD He's even better in fics.. LOL.

Chibirei1227 - LOL, thanks! I was crying at first when I wrote the rape, but then, for some damn reason, I started laughing my ass off - maybe from the mental image I get from writing it, I dunno, or maybe I just can't see Voldemort doing such a thing.. XD Poor, poor Harry. I love him.. I just wanna hug him and never let him go.. LOL.

**Chapter Nine****"Going Under" **

Severus hit the ground with a soft thud, Harry's body cradled on top of him. He groaned from the impact, and as gently as he could, lifted the unconcious boy into his arms, and with some difficulty from the fall, stood. Once back on his feet, he swung him effortlessly over his shoulder; The boy was so light he might as well be carrying a five-year-old child that was thirty pounds.

He walked quickly to the castle doors, and wrenched them open. Students that had been emerging from the Great Hall, from dinner no doubt, stood, and stared at him in shock, and he continued on past them, ignoring the frantic screams the students gave no doubt caused from Harry's appearance. Feeling utterly bad for the boy, Severus did as best he could to quicken his pace, and did not again slow down or stop until he reached the gargoyle just outside of Dumbledore's office.

He muttered the password, and the gargoyle slid across revealing the door that opened for him, and Severus sped up the circular steps, and without knocking or giving so much as an advanced warning, he burst into the room. "Albus."

The older man looked up from his desk, from which he appeared to be working. "Severus. To what do I owe this late..?"

He stopped in mid-sentence, his face whitening with pale, as Severus untacted Harry from his shoulder and drapped him under his shoulder. "Happy now?"

Albus gulped, and his blue eyes lost their twinkle as he stared at the boy. "Is he..?"

"Oh, he's alive, no thanks to you," Snape snarled. "Now are you going to accompany me to the Hospital Wing with him or are you going to sit here and pretend nothing happened?"

Albus immedately stood, and Severus was out the door within seconds; He did not wait for Albus - if he cared, he would catch up.

And he did.

Neither spoke for a long time, not until they reached the Hospital Wing doors. Severus pulled them open, Harry still unconcious in his arms, and yelled, "Poppy!"

She came bustling out of her office, looking alarmed. "Dear, Severus, you gave me a fright, and - oh.."

Her eyes went wide as she glimpsed Harry. "What happened to him?"

"Voldemort." said Severus simply, the adaption of using Voldemort's name coming easily and without effort.

She shrieked, but this seemed due more to Harry's appearance than by use of the name; She lunged forward and seized Harry from Snape's arms, and gently placed him on the bed beside her. She looked up at Severus incrediously, "Are you telling me that the Dark Lord did this?"

"Unfortunately, yes, but I don't have time to explain right now. He's severly injured, and probably ill. However, I can tell you that two days of imprisonment would surely have a rough impact -"

"Three," said Albus suddenly.

Snape turned to him, "Three?"

Albus sighed. "Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley approached me the day before the Order learned news that Voldemort had captured Harry. They said Harry had been missing for hours, and they were worried. He disappeared from here not even two weeks into term, and that alone, the fact that he loves this school, disproves any theory some people had about him possibly running away.."

"So that's why the boy was already there when I got there," said Severus, eyes narrowed with comprehension, "Voldemort said that he had required the boy only just recently, so I assumed he had just attained him that day."

"Of course, Severus. He knew you were in the Order, therefore honour-bound to report any inclination of Harry's whereabouts to me. He called you a day later, making sure you could not contact me before he planned to kill Harry. But of course, that bit didn't work out, because he believed your true loyalties were to him, and you wouldn't be reporting to me until the week after, and by then the boy would be dead; He had no idea we were having secret contact."

"Yes," said Severus, "He didn't figure it out until he realized I was trying to teach the boy Occlumency, therefore, he was unaware that I had told you the day he revealed to me he had Harry about the capture."

"So, You-Know-Who has had Harry all of this time, and no one went to rescue him until just now?" Asked Poppy, who had been lost during the brief time Albus and Severus had conversed, and now looked utterly perplexed. "Albus, if you knew this for the last two days, why did you not go and get to the boy before it had become this bad?"

Severus watched Albus; He, in fact, wanted this question answered, too.

A crease appeared between Albus's eyes. "The Order and myself had arrangements for a proper rescue-attempt, but we had to plan the attack, Poppy. We could not just barge into Voldemort's quarters and demand he hand over Harry. He would be expecting it, because he knew the son of his most loyal servant came to school here, and thus knew I would interrogate him when the news of Harry's abduction came to the media."

"You interrogated Draco?" Asked Severus, turning to him. "That's how you found out Harry was taken? And he told you?"

"It took some persauding, but young Mr. Malfoy told us everything he knew, everything he had heard from his father." Albus said quietly. "I daresay we are lucky to have such good informers here at Hogwarts, Severus."

Severus gave a stiff nod. "Yes. However, if we did not, we'd have a bit of a problem. You'd have gotten there much later, but I had been planning to sneak him away without Voldemort knowing. Unfortunately, he got rid of me so then he'd have an open field at the boy. I think he had prepared an attack when he discovered I was teaching Harry Occlumency, and must have been listening at the door everytime I went to see the boy."

"Harry was becoming more and more resisting with you there, Severus," said Albus. "With you gone, Harry was fish-bait to him, and he attempted, it seems, to discourage him and make him more cooperative by punishing him. The effects are what you see right here. The only thing we know for sure is that Lord Voldemort's plan backfired; He did not intrude Harry's mind and see it, and Harry did not tell him. He did not give in."

He gave Severus a knowing smile, which the younger man did not return; He had a feeling that Dumbledore was far off the mark with this one, had a sudden fear that Harry had given in after all, but then he remembered finding Harry, hearing his cries and coming through the window just in time to see him fall unconcious, so he had only just been beaten when Severus got there; He hadn't told Voldemort the secret, he wasn't dead - it was still safe, Harry was back, and now Lord Voldemort had nothing to fall back on. They had won.

"It's a wonder how he survived all that time.." said Poppy, gazing at the small form on the bed with a somewhat affectionate look. "Poor child's always been so malnourished and unutrioned, now look at the size of him - looks like he did when he first arrived here, and even then he looked too underweight for his own good.."

"That's always been Petunia's doing." said Albus. "He's always been a strong boy, and endured so much more than any child of his age; I daresay more than most adults. He's had a rough life."

"And just getting rougher," said Severus in an undertone.

The woman sighed deeply and looked at the two men. "I better start assessing his damage. We have no idea how bad it is."

"Yes," Severus agreed, and stood. "I'll leave you and him in private, then. The Headmaster and I will be just outside the door."

Albus followed him out of the Hospital Wing doors, and when they were closed, Severus fell back against the wall, eyes closed.

Somehow, he couldn't help but feel guilty that he didn't do more for the boy, get to him sooner; He felt responsible, and at fault, for what happened to the boy, for not getting to him sooner, quicker. He could have spared the boy pain, could have saved Lily's son from some more agony.

_I really hope he didn't get inside Harry's mind, _Severus thought, _I hope he didn't break into his thoughts when Harry realized I was no longer there to help him. God, can the poor boy depend on __**anybody**_

There had been Black, yes, but he was now dead. Everyone the boy was close to seemed to be ripped determindly away from him, by Voldemort's hands, leaving him with no one and nothing. He knew that, even if he was there for Harry now, he would not always be, and the boy had been exposed to more pain and death than anyone he knew, and couldn't bear to cause him that; But he also knew that Harry needed someone _now_, someone to help him and love him, and Severus couldn't pretend to let those barriers they had built between them resurface, not when Harry had now seemed to become a _part of him_, somehow. Not when he realized just who the boy was inside. Not his father - _his mother_.

Suddenly, Severus's eyes burned, and he quickly bit back tears and swallowed the lump in his throat that seemed to be emerging from his own heart. He could not help himself when he whispered brokenly, "It's all my fault."

Albus shook his head. "It is not, Severus. It is mine, and mine alone, and I will be willing to bear Harry's hate when he finds out what I did."

Severus said nothing, but pretended to be interested in a random part of the floor, painted red circles. This did not help, as he thought immediately of Voldemort and instead began to fidget with his sleeve, coming to an understanding of why Harry did it.

At that moment, the hospital wing doors opened, and Poppy stepped out, looking grim. "Apart from a broken nose, busted lip, severe concussion and many bruisings, of which that I've managed to heal easily, though the bruises will have to fade on their own, he appears to be all right."

"Thank God." Sighed Severus in relief.

"He's awake, now, if you want to see him. He would not let me examine him below the waistline, and keeps insisting something about a shower." Poppy continued, looking contemplative back at the room she had just vacated behind her. "Weird boy, he sometimes is.."

Albus made a convulsive movement, and Severus reacted instinctively by looking at him, and was mometarily taken aback; Albus's blue eyes had suddenly lost their twinkle, and they bore such hate Severus had never seen emanate from the older man, and then within seconds it was gone, like a flame that had flickered and died.

When he spoke, though, his voice was firm. "Thank you, Poppy. I have matters to attend to, but I will see to Harry later. Severus, if in an hour's time you could join me in my office, we have some matters to discuss."

Severus nodded, and Albus was gone. Turning his gaze back to Poppy, he said, "I want to see him."

"All right, Severus. I must warn you, though - he looks bad."

Nodding again through the lump in his throat, Severus turned and walked into the room. He could not contain his gasp when he spotted Harry.

He was sitting on the bed he had been laid upon, knees brought up to his chest, and his head down. His clothes were ragged and dirty, like his hair, and the soles of his shoes had begun to disapear; Bruises outlined against the parts of his body not covered by torn clothing, and through the soles, Severus could see the stains on his arms that looked a lot like blue and purple inkblots. His right cheek was blistered red, and appeared to have been cut with some kind of torture spell, and above his right eye, shining visibly as always, was his lightening-bolted scar.

Harry looked up when he heard Severus's footsteps, and nothing shocked Severus more about Harry's appearance more than the boy's eyes; Once bright Green eyes looking into his, now were Grey and lifeless, so unlike the sometimes raw emotions he displayed of happiness and laughter and peacefullness; That whole side of him seemed to have fallen away.

Still, he forced a smile upon his face. "Hi, sir."

Severus forced one of his own, and it came late as his mouth merely twitched. "Hello, Harry. How are you feeling?"

"Okay."

Severus knew it was a lie, but he felt no annoyance and impatience to bother the boy about lying when he had just been returned from what could have been his death. Now was not the right time for anything, Severus realized. He was lucky the boy would even speak.

"I'm glad you got out, sir. I didn't think I would." Harry said suddenly, picking at his sleeve, that usually signified that he was nervous or anxious, sometimes fearful.

"Well," Severus said carefully, watching Harry's movement, "I wasn't going to just leave you there. I wasn't going to give up on you."

Harry looked up, eyes wide. "You weren't..?"

"No." Said Severus truthfully, his voice soft with reassurance. "Never. Even if I died in the attempt, I wasn't going to let him kill you, Harry. I.. I love you.."

As the words left his mouth, Severus felt just quite as shocked as Harry looked; Never would he have thought he'd say he loved Harry Potter.

Before he could correct himself or contemplate more on what he said, Harry got up from the bed, something like life glinting in his eyes, his face impassive, searching Severus's face for the lie it would not find, Green eyes searching the Black, realizing the truth at last, and he did the first thing he had done in living memory: He hugged Severus Snape.

Severus thought he would faint from shock, and it was awkward, the hug, never feeling some warm and radiant from someone. He returned it, patting Harry's back comfortingly, and was surprised when he heard the other sniffling, but when he pulled away, there was no trace of a tear, and he had that lifeless look in his eyes again.

"Can I take a shower, sir?" He asked, looking to the floor.

Severus nodded, but felt it was a mistake even before he finished; Something in his mind was telling him it was wrong, something was urgently wrong, but he couldn't figure it out, and the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, "Yes, Harry. I think that might be all right."

He felt even weirder as he said it.

Harry quickly walked towards the bathroom down the hall, and stopped, looking back at Snape. "Thanks, sir."

Severus nodded thanks back, and watched as the boy pulled open the door and closed it again. Minutes later, the sound of water running issued from the bathroom, and Poppy appeared at his side, looking disproving.

"After that shower he's going to need a lie-down. I was going to insist it before, but I can see why he wants one - it soothes the aches and pains, and makes you feel somewhat better." She looked at Snape. "I'm going to go complete my work, and will attend to him when he comes out. You may come back later, Severus, if you wish to."

"Yes, I'd like that." Said Severus, "And I'm sure Harry would be okay with it as well."

"Yes, I think that's what he needs, some comfort right now," said Poppy with a sad look in her eye as she headed towards her office door. "After all, he just narrowly escaped death again; Who knows the things You-Know-Who told him.. he appears more nervous than ever..."

Severus felt intrigued as she shut the door behind her, leaving him alone. Had something happened to Harry to make him more frightful than ever before?

He pondered the thought as he crossed the hall, and was about the head down the stairs, when something, a gut feeling pulled him back. He could hear a soft crying sound coming from the bathroom, and immediately fell back, listening intently with his ear upon the door. Even through the sound of running water, he could hear him. How long he stood there, he did not know, but as the loud sobs that had errupted calmed, and the water stopped, he quickly set off again, his mind racing, searching for answers he believed Albus had known, and had every intention of getting them out of him.

**Another A/N: **

**Wow, long chap. Better stop it there. Will write another chapter Thursday, since tomorrow's my mom's b-day, and she's going to get the computer all day. Hope you enjoyed this one. **

**Take care, all, thanks for reviewing!**

Tainted Visions.


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